The Rise of the Dragon King
by TheDaedricPrinceOfCrossovers
Summary: Alduin's made his return, and only the man with the blood and soul of a dragon can hope to defeat him. And unfortunately for Percy Jackson, there's more to him than he thought there was. Rewrite of The Savior of Nirn.
1. Introduction

**FRIENDS.**

**Welcome to the introduction to The Rise of the Dragon King.** **I messed with Skyrim canon a bit, so here I'd like to explain what I've done.**

**FIRST: Go to my profile and open up my map of Skyrim. It's right at the top of the profile and pretty important to fully understand what's going on, in terms of borders and other things. When you've got that open in a tab, continue on my dear reader.**

* * *

**JARLDOM OF HAAFINGAR -  
****Ruler: **Jarlessa Elisif I, the Rose of the Reach. Age: 21  
Heirs: None  
Spouse: High King Torygg Wulfblood IV - deceased.  
**Ruling family:** Clan Wulfblood  
**Historical Allies: **Hjaalmarch, The Rift  
**Historical Enemies:** Whiterun, The Nordic Reach, Winterhold  
**Current Allies: **The Nordic Reach, Hjaalmarch, Falkreathean Hegemony  
**At War With: **The Eastern Marches, The Rift, The Pale  
**Imperial Ties: **Strong

The Haafingarians are currently the strongest people in Skyrim - their own impressive army is bolstered by that of the Imperial Legion, Solitude Inlet is a bustling port of trade, and the capital's wealth is on the rise. Solitude is by far the biggest city in Skyrim, boasting a population of nearly 200,000.

It's the center of Imperial influence in all the Jarldoms, and the greatest roadblock against the unification effort led by Ulfric Stormcloak far to the east.

The current ruler - Elisif - the daughter of the Jarl of Markarth, one of the steps taken to ensure a good relationship between the historically hostile factions of the Haafingarians and the Westerners. She's still barely a woman and is on the throne due to the death of her husband, High King Torygg IV. Elisif could be in line to inherit the throne, depending on her success against Ulfric's efforts at unifying Skyrim.

Clan Wulfblood is in dire straits. Elisif and Torygg produced no heirs, so unless another Wulfblood marries Elisif - and fast - they could fall out of power from both the Jarlhood of Haafingar and their claim to High King. The Kaarstags or the Whitemanes would love to get their hands on that title.

The Emperor's son could also look to Elisif as a wife to increase relations between the two.

**JARLDOM OF THE EASTERN MARCHES  
****Ruler: **Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak III. Age: 54  
Heirs: Ulfric(M), Age 25. Brandr(M), Age 16. Valinna(F), 13.**  
**Spouse: Mikala, Age 41. Formerly of Clan Shattershield.**  
Ruling Family: **Clan Stormcloak  
**Historical Allies: **Whiterun  
**Historical Enemies: **The Rift, Winterhold  
**Current Allies: **The Pale, The Rift  
**At War With: **Haafingar, Hjaalmarch, The Nordic Reach  
**Imperial Ties: **Open Rebellion

Ulfric Stormcloak III is trying something ambitious that's never been attempted before - he wishes to unite Skyrim and cut off all Imperial ties. While Skyrim has always had the official title of "High King", Ulfric actually wishes to make something of it. Despite the title, the Jarls of Skyrim have always had plenty of autonomy. He wants to create a true Kingdom - lower the power of the Jarls and take true control.

In a strange paradox, it's the presense of the Empire that keeps Skyrim weak and divided. As long as the Jarldoms fight their little petty wars, Skyrim will always be a land of war unless a true government is established. If the Thalmor were to invade now, they would destroy the seperate armies of the Jarldoms. If the country works together as one, it could have a chance.

The Empire had always encouraged infighting the keep the Fatherland weak and under control. They encourage division. Ulfric encourages a Nord nationalist feeling.

The Eastern Marches and their citizens - "Marchers" - are strong as always. Ulfric used his powerful army to coerce The Rift and The Pale to his cause, and their combined their three armies into one force of 120,000 - the Stormcloak Army.

Clan Stormcloak is strong, as the younger Ulfric is already one of his father's top generals. He should make a fine King someday. His youngest daughter, Valinna, will be given to Harrald, Prince of The Rift, as she comes to age. Windhelm is the largest city in the east, with a population of around 80,000. The only competing clans in Windhelm are Cruelsea and Shattershield, both of whom are content to follow Ulfric's lead for now.

**JARLDOM OF THE NORDIC REACH  
****Ruler: **Jarl Igmund Pinehorn II. Age: 57**  
**Heirs: Elisif, Age 21(Jarl of Haafingar). Roggard(M), Age 18. Hulgari(F), Age 13. Ergnin(M), Age 8.  
Spouse: Hreir, Age 39. Formerly of Clan Lawgiver.  
**Ruling Family:** Clan Pinehorn**  
Historical Allies:** Winterhold  
**Historical Enemies:** Haafingar, Whiterun  
**Current Allies:** Haafingar, Hjaalmarch, Falkreathean Hegemony  
**At War With:** The Eastern Marches, The Pale, The Rift  
**Imperial Ties:** Weak

The power of the Nordic people of the Reach - "Westerners" - are weaker than they're used to. Due to their past aggression against Haafingar and the native Reachman, the Empire levied heavy sanctions on them and took away nearly half of their kingdom for "free territory". They're not too pleased with the Empire, nor with any other region for that matter.

Clan Pinehorn is historically isolationist, and heavily anti-unification. They've allied with Haafingar and the Empire to preserve their autonomy and fight against the unifying powers.

Markarth is built out of a Dwemer ruin, and as such isn't very large. It holds around 40,000, but they have quite a powerful army and plenty of resources. They - of course - must deal with the native Forsworn who they just can't seem to stamp out.

Clan Pinehorn's power is waning while the Silverbloods are increasing their influence, selling their rich silver mines north to the Haafingarian nobles and south to the petty Colovian lords in Cyrodiil. As such, many expect the Silverbloods to make a move to take the famed Mournful Throne in Markarth.

**INDEPENDENT JARLDOM OF WHITERUN  
Ruler: **Jarl Balgruuf Plainwalker VIII. Age: 36.  
**Heirs: **Frothar(M), Age 11. Dagny(F), Age 9. Nelkir(M), Age 7.  
**Spouse: **Ingrid of Clan Stormcloak - deceased.  
**Ruling Family: **Clan Plainwalker  
**Historical Allies:** The Eastern Marches  
**Historical Enemies: **Haafingar, The Nordic Reach  
**Current Allies: **None  
**At War With: **None  
**Imperial Ties: **Separatist

The ancient city-state of Whiterun and its surrounding landscape is the truest example of classic Nordic culture still in existence. The Jarldom is extremely independent - so much so that it's ignoring its historical ally's attempt at unification.

The petty kingdom itself had never truly allowed the Empire within its borders, as it boasts an independent army of 80,000 men - villagers, citizens of Whiterun, mercenaries, the Companions - anyone who will fight. Their considerable numbers have withstood Ulfric's pressures.

Balgruuf is an opportunistic ruler who used the strife created by Ulfric's rebellion to declare full independence. His people - the "Plainsmen" of the walled kingdom - are generally dissapointed with their ruler. Pressures from both sides have entered his great city, influencing the ancient and great Battleborn and Greymane families, causing them to fight openly and pine for the Jarl's ear.

The Empire doesn't recognize independent Whiterun anymore than they recognize Ulfric's Kingdom of Skyrim, but no troops will dare to march on the stone walls that surround the plains of the city-state. They'll stay independent for the foreseeable future.

**JARLDOM OF THE RIFT  
Ruler: **Jarlessa Laila Lawgiver I. Age: 38.  
**Heirs: **Harrald the Younger(M), 21. Saerlund(M), 18. Clarassa(F), 15.  
**Spouse: **Harrald Lawgiver II, deceased  
**Ruling Family: **Lawgiver  
**Historical Allies: **Haafingar  
**Historical Enemies: **The Eastern Marches  
**Current Allies: **The Eastern Marches, the Pale  
**At War With: **Haafingar, Falkreathean Hegemony, Hjaalmarch, the Nordic Reach  
**Imperial Ties: **Strong

The Rift's support of Ulfric Stormcloak is not one of choice. When Ulfric moved 70,000 trained and professional warriors to the Rift's border, the Jarlessa had little choice to surrender. As the older sister of Balgruuf the Greater who was married off at a young age, she feels a degree of loyalty to her hometown of Whiterun.

Laila's actual control of the city - as has been typical of Lawgiver Jarls - is minimal. Maven Blackbriar is the matriarch of the strongest non-royal family in Skyrim, and she runs everything behind the scenes. Her connections to the Thieves Guild are either unknown to the Jarlessa or ignored.

The citizens of the Rift - the "Riftish" - feel a sense of loyalty to the Empire, but due to the rather harsh nature of Ulfric's obligatory Stormcloak Guard they rarely voice this. Riften's private army was folded into the Stormcloaks and sent to the southern border, ready to attack the Falkreathean Hegemony at a moment's notice.

**THE FALKREATHEAN HEGEMONY  
Ruler: **King Siddgeir Kaarstag I. Age: 22.  
Heirs: None.  
Spouse: Varona, daughter of the Count of Bravil. Age: 17.  
**Ruling Family: **Clan Kaarstag  
**Historical Allies: **None  
**Historical Enemies: **None  
**Current Allies: **Haafingar, The Nordic Reach, Hjaalmarch  
**At War With: **The Eastern Marches, The Pale, The Rift  
**Imperial Ties:** Tense

No existing Jarldom has profited more from the outbreak of war than Falkreath. Once a tiny city-state, its territories are now vast and hold all of the Jerall border, reaching from Lake Honrich to the eastern Reach. It's all been undertaken by the ambitious Siddgeir, who tossed aside the old Jarldom and named himself a King.

Due to a wealth of resources now available and the monopoly on trade to Cyrodiil, the large state is quite wealthy. While their army isn't massive it's well-trained, armed, and resourced. They'll hold the newly won land from the Rift without issue.

It's quick growth and the declaration of King Siddgeir has caused the Empire to become wary towards its Northern neighbor. Should the new land declare independence in the vein of Whiterun, the Empire could do very little to stop it.

**JARLDOM OF HJAALMARCH  
Ruler:** Jarlessa Idgrod Ravencrone XIII. Age 53.  
Heirs: Idgrod(F), 22. Joric(M), 16.  
Spouse: Aslfur, town commoner  
**Ruling Family: **Clan Ravencrone  
**Historical Allies: **Haafingar  
**Historical Enemies: **None  
**Current Allies: **Haafingar, The Nordic Reach, Falkreathean Hegemony  
**At War With: **The Eastern Marches, The Rift, The Pale  
**Imperial Ties:** Weak.

Hjaalmarch is the oddball Jarldom in Skyrim. Their society is matriarchal, and the title of Jarl is always given to the eldest daughter and not the son. Due to that breach in normality, the Ravencrones tend to stay in town.

Idgrod XIII threw in her lot against the Stormcloaks due to Hjaalmarch's historical isolationism. The hold has very little to offer in terms of resources and Morthal holds a meager 15,000 citizens and not many soldiers.

**JARLDOM OF THE PALE  
Ruler: Jarl Skald Whitemane V. Age 72.  
Heirs: Throthgar(M), 41. Kodlak(M), 53 (disowned).  
Spouse: Gravia, deceased.  
Ruling Family: Clan Whitemane  
**

The Pale is a backwards nation governed by a backwards man. Skald V is near senile, and his only legitimate heir, Throthgar, is nearly as addled. The people of Dawnstar claim that the divines damned them to insanity as pay for banishing the true heir - Kodlak - years ago. The disgraced son became the Harbinger of the Companions, and the Pale has only declined.

Their army is puny, and all of their important land is in the Falrand Valley far to the south, which more or less operates independently. This Jarldom is pretty irrelevant at the moment.

* * *

**Winterhold is still technically one of Skyrim's Jarldoms, but they've lost nearly all of their territories to Ulfric's advances and the encroaching Whiteshore Pirates. The pirates aren't crazy, however - the College of Winterhold still stands, and it's still full of very capable mages ready to melt faces.**

**The pirates are quite well organized, and they run a sort of skewed democracy among their ranks. They can't truly be counted as a nation of any sort but they are a formidable naval force to the north.**

**So yeah. In review, Skyrim's more like a collection of petty kingdoms under the general banner of the Empire and High King rather than the strange sort of half-monarchy we see in the game. Also, I tried to make Ulfric less like Hitler and a bit more like Bismark; my goal was to make his cause actually mean something to me, since the one in-game is laughably shallow and dumb.**

**The yellow territory on the map is the half of the Reach that the Empire confiscated. It was LEGALLY set aside for displaced Reachmen, but the Forsworn really weren't accepting that. So Whiterun, Haafingar, and Hjaalmarch have "legally" occupied Reachman's Plateau.**

**The scale that I used is the same one from Daggerfall, which was fairly realistic. The area of the place is around 124,300 square miles, or about the size of modern-day Poland.**

**The money system will be as the same in the Savior of Nirn: 5 Septims to a Pelagius, 20 Septims to a Martin, 50 Septims to a Uriel, 100 Septims to a Mede.**

**I think that's all I've got to say. So, we shall begin.**


	2. Prologue

Everything seemed peaceful, for once.

It was August 21st - the last day of Camp for the year. Around a year after Gaea and the Giants had been defeated by the Seven. Percy had turned eighteen three days before, which was also his two year anniversary with Annabeth.

_TWO YEARS. _He still had a hard time wrapping his brain around that. It felt like an eternity. A really _good _eternity, but still.

He and Annabeth sat at the top of Half-Blood Hill, holding hands and enjoying the view down to the outside world. Percy's mom would soon arrive to give them a ride back to New York, where the two demigods would live out their last year of high school.

The two were content to share the silence together. The two had been getting more and more serious - before long, Percy would have to consider words like _college _and _shared apartment_ and _kids._

Freaking _KIDS!_

He wanted to bring this up to Annabeth but his mouth went as though it were full of cotton. His face flushed and he tried desperately to look down the hill nonchalantly. But of course, his perceptive girlfriend caught it.

"You alright, Seaweed Brain?" She asked, sounding concerned.

He nodded furiously. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. Just... thinking."

She gasped sarcastically, covering her mouth in mock surprise. "You THOUGHT? Oh my gods, we should call for a holiday." Percy rolled his eyes and knocked his shoulder against hers. "Seriously, what were you thinking about?"

"The future."

Her stormy eyes looked at him with a softness. "What do you mean 'the future'?"

Then everything went to Tartarus.

The sky turned a sickly red. A roar filled valley and a huge black figure appeared in the distance. This thing was nothing like Percy had ever seen before. It was clearly a dragon of some sort, but not the Peleus kind of nice dragon. It wasn't a Greek dragon. This was as long as the drakon, and about as nice looking. It flew - obviously - and had long, black spikes on the edge of its wings.

Worst of all, the beast spoke in a guttural language - one that radiated evil and malice. It felt ancient; older than Ancient Greek, older than _everything._

Percy raced to his feet and drew Riptide.

A voice in his head boomed: "_Only you can defeat him. You are the Dragonborn..."_

_"Dragonborn?" _Percy thought back to the detached consciousness

Just then, the whole world turned blue. Then... time froze. Annabeth next to him was cemented in place, along with the dragon in the air. A man shimmered into existence in front of Percy.

The man was old looking and was dressed in a robe. His face was almost completely shrouded by a hood. "As it stands now, you cannot slay him. But you will soon be able to.

For a second Percy didn't move a muscle but then he realized that, just like the man, he could move. The mysteriously figure clearly had something to do with the time warp or whatever it was that they were in.

"Explain..." He didn't know what he wanted the man to explain. The dragon, this "Dragonborn", the strange man... "Explain everything. Who are you?"

"My name is Quaranir. I represent the Psijic Order. I'm here because we at the Order believe in you, and knows you're the most capable man for this task."

The Psijic Order? Percy hadn't ever head the word. "Wha-"

"Our planes are... different sides of the same coin. Yours is Earth. Ours in Nirn. Alduin threatens both planes. Do you understand?"

"No!"

"You've helped end the threat of Me-... Kronos, for which we can thank you for. You are exactly the hero we need in Nirn - one who has knowledge of both worlds."

"In English?"

"You mean Tamrielic? Earth is your planet. Nirn is ours. Our worlds are linked. The Divines rule Nirn, the Gods rule Earth. That big black dragon is Alduin, the World-Eater. You are going to Nirn to learn how to beat that dragon. We at the Psijic Order can freeze time here until you return with all of your knowledge to defeat Alduin, once and for all."

Percy's head nearly exploded from the information overload. "I... PLEASE slow down. So you want to send me over to this... this other world? To defeat this dragon?" Quaranir nodded. "But what about Earth?"

"This world will stay in this condition until you return. Time will remain broken. Now, please. Go to Nirn, learn and train. You MUST bridge the gap."

A giant purple maw opened under Percy's feet. He fell downwards, crying for help and cursing the smug stranger before his vision went black.

* * *

Percy awoke to a dull pounding in his head.

He was lying headfirst in a snowbank. He quickly got up, shivering. He surveyed his surroundings. He was in the middle of a snowy forest - a few inches of the stuff was on the ground. Thin, crisp snow fell lightly through the trees.

He looked down and finally noted his clothing. He looked like someone out of a frontier novel - dressed in animal skins and a leather hood. Why the hell was he?...

He certainly wasn't in New York anymore.

He needed shelter and a heat source of some kind. Then he could figure out exactly where he needed to-

An arrow zipped past his head and embedded into a nearby tree. "Crap!" Percy muttered, ducking low.

"Sir! There's another fugitive here, crossing the border into Skyrim!" Called a distant voice. The panicked demigod patted himself down, finding no weapon. Not even _Riptide. _He was entirely helpless.

Within three seconds, Percy was surrounded on all sides by men wearing Romanesque armor. Six gladius swords were soon pointed at his chest. "Don't move, fugitive." One of them ordered coldly.

What sort of world had he entered?!

A man on a horse walked up to them, calmly. He wore ornate armor, depicting a dragon in the shape of a diamond. "Round him up. We can figure out what to do with him when we get to Helgen."

Percy coughed. "What's going on-"

The swords got closer to him, so he shut up. "He's barely a man, General." One soldier said.

"He's on his own, crossing the border illegally. Knock him cold."

A fist connected with the back of Percy's head and he went out cold.


	3. Helgen

**17th of Last Seed, Year 201 of the Fourth Era**

Percy woke up on a cart.

His senses slowly returned to him as his vision came back. A quick glance down confirmed that his hands were bound before him. He was sitting on some sort of wooden carriage. It was still morning - the harsh sun peeked in between the snow-covered trees. Only a few inches of snow covered the ground, but it was fairly cold. A man in some sort of blue armor was in front of him, who was also bound by his hands.

"Wh-where am I?" Percy asked, trying to shake the cobwebs out of his head..

"Hey, you. You're finally awake," said the man in front of him. He had a strong Northern European accent. His hair was blonde and braided, adorned with many small beads and other ornaments. A bit girly, but Percy didn't comment on it. The guy looked like he could beat the demigod to a pulp. "You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into the Imperial ambush. Same as us, and that thief over there."

Percy looked to his right to see a woman with brown hair, brown hair, and was wearing rags - and upon looking done at himself, Percy realized he'd been lucky. The soldiers had left him in his strange lightly armored, animal skin and leather getup that Quaranir had somehow zapped onto him. It was moderately insulating, but Percy was still cold.

"Damn you Nords." The thief said, ignoring Percy. She had a slight British-sounding accent. "Always starting your civil wars between your cute little petty kingdoms. If it wasn't for your bloody rebellion-" she looked pointedly at the guy in blue "-I could've taken that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." The woman looked squarely at Percy next. "You and me - we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks that the Empire wants."

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." The man in blue pointed out.

"Shut up back there!" Exclaimed the soldier who was driving the carriage. Jerk.

"So where am I?" Percy asked once again.

"Why, you don't know?" asked the man in blue. "You mean to say you haven't even heard of the province? This is Skyrim - homeland of the Nords. It's a rugged land - life is short, and hard. We're around forty miles north of the border. Where are you from, prisoner?"

Percy was unsure what to say until Quaranir's voice burned into his skull. _Daggerfall_. "Daggerfall." He said, uncertainly.

"Ah, so you're a Breton." Blue said. "Fancy magic, do you?"

"Uh-"

"What's wrong with him, huh?" The thief suddenly asked, looked at the last prisoner. He was wearing black fur robes and had his mouth gagged.

"Watch your tongue!" Blue said, sounding aggressive. "You speak to Ulfric Stormcloak, the High King of Skyrim!"

"Ulfric? The leader of your little war?"

"I said watch your tongue!"

The woman scoffed and looked at the tied up leader with contempt. "The Empire didn't care about Skyrim until you tried your little nationalistic coup. If they hadn't been guarding the border more tightly than usual, maybe the quiet Breton and I could've gotten through."

"I don't need the thoughts of your crimes pressing on my last thoughts, you Cyrodiilic whore."

"If my hands were untied, you would be impeccably dead right now."

Percy tried to make sense of this situation. A crazy guy named Quaranir had dropped him into a different world, expecting him to find a way to beat some dragon named Alduin. However the cart was taking him, a soldier, a thief with a death wish and some king guy to our execution. Percy was a Breton - whatever that meant - and apparently he was supposed to escape from execution with literally nothing other than rags.

Oh, this was just _great._

The soldier and the thief spoke about something whilst Percy tuned out and tried to piece together what he knew about up to this point. He was in a place called Skyrim, which he figured was like this planet's equivalent to Scandinavia. There was an overarching Empire that was trying to keep the province under it's control, even though a rebellion was in full swing and was started by the man next to Percy.

The cart was allowed through the gates of a settlement, which a sign denoted as "Helgen". Wooden palisades ran on for about a football field's length on either side. As the wooden carriages entered the town, Percy got a glimpse of the place - small and poor. The streets were narrow, and people hustled and bustled about, all looking destitute. There couldn't have been more than a couple thousand living in the place.

Percy still wasn't sure if he could trust that man Quaranir. He was used to betrayal but a lingering feeling in the back of his mind made him think that the stranger wouldn't double-cross him. That is, unless he'd sent Percy to his own execution, which was possible...

A glob of mud hit the back of Percy head, and soon the rest of the cart riders were also pelted. Jeering citizens tossed balls of muck at the traveling prisoners, crying jeers of "traitors" and "Marcher scum". Who knew what "Marcher" meant, but it didn't sound like the civilians thought of it as a compliment.

The five carriages arrived in the town square, right in front of what looked like a military fortress. In the middle of the clearing was a military leader and a hooded man with a huge double-axe. "Get these prisoners out of the carts. Move it!" Came the shrill voice of the captain. Female.

"Are you ready to face the axe, Breton?" Blue asked, staring at Percy intently.

"Not if I have anything to do about it," the demigod said back coolly. No weapons, no plan... this would be a longshot.

The braid-haired man shrugged. "We'd best not keep the divines waiting for us. Come on."

Angry Woman muttered under her breath, "By Akatosh, if I die listening to this idiot in my ear..."

_Divines. Akatosh. _Quaranir had mentioned that the "divines" ruled over this other earth, while the gods ruled over earth. Percy wondered if Akatosh was one of those deities.

These "Imperials" shoved the prisoners out of the carriages. Percy glanced around as he landed on the ground to see that the town's population had surrounded the small execution area. All together, Percy counted around thirty fellow prisoners. With the five or so Imperials around the block. It couldn't have been too hard to escape.

Granted, Percy was also certain that there were archers hidden _everywhere. _The only spot not surrounded by wall was facing south... hmm...

"Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time!" the captain demanded as she looked pointedly at a red-haired soldier holding a list and a quill.

"Empire loves their damned lists," Blue hissed to me. Percy couldn't help but smirk at his poor humor.

The Captain turned to address our group. The quill-holding soldier next to her said, "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."

The Rebel walked towards the block. "It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!" Blue called out.

"Ralof of Riverwood!"

Blue - or Ralof - went towards his upcoming end without fear.

"Cathrien of House Hassildor, Skingrad."

The thief bored into the eyes of the soldier. "If you kill me, there will be _Oblivion _to pay."

"Count Hassildor has ordered your execution himself." The captain informed the thief matter-of-factly. "He said that a divines-shaming thief is no daughter of his."

"...What? That bastard!" An Imperial grabbed Cathrien by the arm and dragged her towards the block. Percy actually felt bad for the woman; her father (presumably her father, anyway) had ordered his daughter to be killed. It didn't matter what you did - that was a scummy thing to do.

The quill-wielding soldier looked at Percy uncertainly and then darted his eyes back down to the list. He was hesitant. "Wait... You there. Step forward," said the soldier to me. "Who are you?" he asked whilst glaring at me.

"Percy Jackson," he said slowly. He needed time - time to think of something, time to plan his escape. He decided to stall using stale humor. "What's your name, my good man?"

The scribe glanced at the captain before looking hesitantly back at Percy. "My name is, uh, Hadvar..." He was confused, which was generally good for Percy's cause. "I haven't heard your family name before."

"Sounds Breton," another soldier put in.

"Breton, eh? Well, you picked a bad time to cross into Skyrim." The soldier turned to the Captain. "What should we do? He's not on the list."

YES. This valiant, kind man would get Percy out of this. All the soldier had to do was cut Percy's binds and- "Forget the list. He goes to the block." The Captain instructed coldly.

_Stand up to her, you wonderful bastard!_

"By your orders, Captain." Hadvar turned towards the demigod. "I'm sorry. I'll make sure your remains are returned to High Rock."

"How about New York?" Percy grumbled under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I'm sure my remains will be grateful."

"Ah, whatever. Follow the Captain to the block, prisoner. Nice and easy."

He followed the Captain reluctantly as she walked towards the block. There must have been an escape somewhere... What Percy wouldn't do for a plan worthy of Athena right now... he looked around the town square. A gate to his left, but as soon as he moved he would have been shot down. Damn...

"Ulfric Stormcloak, some here in Helgen call you a hero," said the man who was clearly the military leader here. Higher up than the captain at least. His ornate armor indicated that. "But a hero wouldn't use a power like the Voice to kill to murder his king and usurp his throne. You started this war! Plunged Skyrim into chaos. And now we're going to put you down and restore the peace!"

Suddenly, a roaring voice echoed through the land. Percy's blood turned to ice - that was the same noise that Alduin had made when he entered Earth. Was he attacking now?!

"What was that?" A soldier asked.

"A dragon." Percy muttered under his breath.

"What was that, Breton?" Ralof asked him.

"Nothing." He whispered back.

"Yes, General Tullius!" the Captain suddenly exclaimed. "Give them their last rites!"

A woman who was clearly a priest of some sort spread her arms and said, "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings on the Eight Divines upon ye, for you are the salt and the earth of Nirn, our beloved-"

"For the love of Talos, shut up, and let's get this over with!" A rebel marched to the block. Percy's mouth dropped a bit - that guy was pretty freaking brave, he had to admit that. He was pushed down by the Captain lady onto his knees.

"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" the rebel demanded as the Headsman readied his axe. Percy looked away at the last possible second as the axe swung downwards.

The wet, sickening crunch was deafening in Percy's ears. He'd heard, done, and seen some pretty detestable things, but a beheading with an axe must've been up there on his list. When he looked back, the blood splatter was pretty crazy.

That display, of course, got the rebels all riled up. "You Imperial bastards!"

That sparked some townspeople to yell back. "Justice!"

"Death to the Stormcloaks!"

"You're getting what you deserve, you dirty traitors!"

"As fearless in life as he was in deaf," sighed Ralof next to Percy as the Captain shoved the rebel's body off the block.

The Captain turned back. "Next, the Breton!"

Already? Percy panicked in place, not moving for a second. But then Alduin's roar could be heard again. He must've been close, but his stupid hands were bound. He couldn't even fight it should the dragon attack. "There it is again; Did you hear that?" exclaimed a soldier.

"I said, _next prisoner!_" cried the Captain.

"No you didn't. You said 'the Breton'." Percy said meekly.

"Get moving!"

Percy took a step forward and saw a glorious opportunity. He could... YES! "Hey, Hadvar?"

"Uh... yes?"

"Sorry."

The demigod made his move.

Percy moved at top speed towards the Imperial soldier and rammed into him with his shoulder. He pulled Hadvar's gladius from his own sheath and flipped the shortsword into reverse grip. The blade sheared through his wrist binds.

Freed and armed in around a second. This was going unusually well.

Everyone in the weird Romanesque armor drew their gladii, and fifty or so archers made themselves known up on the Helgen walls. Percy was somewhat prepared for this too - he twisted Hadvar's arm behind his back and drew the soldier close to him like a human shield. Percy's stolen shortsword was pressed to Hadvar's throat. The demigod faced north, leaving his back turned on the only side without archer support. His flank was clean.

"DON'T FIRE!" Percy cried.

Hadvar didn't move a muscle. "Who the hell are you?"

"DON'T FIRE! I'M INNOCENT, LET ME GO!"

The captain and the general looked at Percy with uncertainty. The demigod responded by pressing the blade closer to Hadvar's throat. "I don't want to hurt you." He muttered into the soldier's ear. "Don't give me a reason to."

"Drop him!" The general ordered, as the Imperial soldiers took a step forward.

"Not an inch closer!" Percy cried. "In a few seconds, we're all going to have bigger problems. You have to listen to me! There's going to be a-"

As if on cue, Alduin showed up.

The dragon flew into view behind the tower. "What in Oblivion is that?" cried the general, losing interest in Percy.

"Sentries, what do you see?" yelled the Captain.

"It's in the clouds!"

Percy kicked Hadvar to the ground as the dragon landed with a thud on the top of the keep. The townsfolk screamed in horror as a rebel cried, "Dragon!"

The son of Poseidon scanned the area. He needed to get out of there - if Quaranir hadn't been lying, he was still unkillable. Alduin opened his mouth and shouted something in the same language he'd heard at Half-blood Hill. A wall of purple _something _enveloped the whole town of Helgen and rocks began to fall from the sky.

Percy tried to ignore the screams of civilians as they burned to death or died.

Ralof grabbed the demigod's arm and cried, "Come on, Breton! The divines won't give us another chance! We need to get into the keep!"

The archers on the walls were all focused on the flying beast, as were the Imperial soldiers. Percy wasn't exactly sure he could trust the rebel, but given that Hadvar was scrambling to his feet behind him, he needed to get out of there before the guy tried to strangle him for pulling his little trick.

Percy nodded at Ralof. "Yeah, let's get moving."


	4. Unbound

Percy followed Ralof towards a nearby tower. The people of Helgen were screaming and rioting, but the two managed to strong-arm their way through the crowd and past the keep doors. Ralof immediately turned on a dime and held the door shut, shoving his weight against the door. People pounded on it, begging to get in.

"What're you doing?!" Percy asked, surprised at the merciless act. "Let them in! They'll burn to death!"

A hand from behind grabbed the demigod's shoulder. "Those people are doomed, and we are safe. Should we open that door again, we risk death for ourselves."

Percy turned to see the rebel guy - Ulfric Stormcloak. His gag was gone, and his voice was deep, gravelly, and Scandinavian. "Those are innocent people that we're burning to death!" Percy cried exasperatedly.

Another rebel soldier - "Stormcloak", whatever - pushed a heavy crate in front of the door, barring the thing shut. Panting, Ralof looked to his leader. "King Ulfric, what was that thing? Could he legends be true?"

"Legends don't burn down villages," Ulfric pointed out. He glanced behind him. "We need to move. Now!" he cried to his soldiers. There were five or six in the small room.

"Up through the tower, let's go!" Ralof looked at Percy. "You too, Breton. You're a good fighter." Percy followed Ralof up the stairs, unsure of what their escape plan was. Percy was still clutching the gladius, but he'd had little experience with Legion weapons.

Why would an army in a different world be so... Roman?

Around halfway up the stairs, the outside wall was suddenly bashed in. Percy was only a few feet away from the incident, and managed to step back when a gout of fire from Alduin filled the small area. Ralof led Percy up to examine the wreckage

Ralof said, "The stairs are blocked!" he poked his head out the hole in the tower. "You see the inn on the other side?" he pointed to a building with its roof blown off. Percy nodded, unsure where this was going. "Jump through the roof and keep going!"

"Are you serious?" He asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes! We'll follow you when we can. Now go!"

Percy looked at the gap. It was no small jump. He'd have to be lucky to make it. He backed up a few steps and jumped for the building.

They'd been taught at Camp to roll out of a jump that high. Unfortunately, that rule was probably not designed for medieval wooden flooring. What was it with this world and it's dark ages shenanigans? Ah, anyway, as Percy jumped into the inn, his weight managed to break the floor and he landed on the ground with a _thud._

Percy's shoulder ached as he got to his feet. Thank gods the building hadn't been lit of fire yet - or else he'd've been toast. The son of Poseidon ran through the opening on the ground floor and back out into the town.

Up just ahead was Hadvar, who was near two citizens. He looked desperately at a small child out in the streets. "Haming! You need to get over here, _now!_" the soldier shouted to the boy.

The boy clumsily ran towards the soldier, and not a second too late. Alduin landed in the opening and blew another gout of fire. Percy dove to the right in cover with the soldier, Haming, and some old man.

Hadvar glanced at the demigod and then had a double-take. "You?! You're still alive?!"

Percy shrugged and said, "I'm pretty resilient. I'm more surprised you got out, given that you don't have a weapon."

The soldier's eyes shot to the shortsword in Percy's hand and sighed. "Can I-"

The sword was offered to Hadvar handle first, which he took gratefully. "That was a clever maneuver you pulled back at the execution." The soldier complimented.

"Thanks. Now, I'm going to get the hell out of here."

Percy dashed out of cover with Hadvar on his heels. The man had showed minimal interest in killing or arresting Percy, so he didn't really mind. "Stay close to the wall!" Hadvar blurted out. Percy didn't know what he meant until Alduin landed on the precipice just above them._  
_

The demigod shot Hadvar a nervous look. "Are you sure about this?"

"It doesn't notice us. Shut up." he said in a low voice. Once the dragon took off again, he ran ahead. "Quickly! Follow me!"

Percy followed through the corpse of a house and over the bodies of slain Imperial soldiers and countless dead civilians. The site of burnt children... Percy needed to continue, or else he'd die and this dragon would never be killed. Alduin apparently meant some serious business. The Imperial soldiers who were still kicking were firing arrows at the beast. One woman was even shooting balls of fire out of her hands. Apparently that was possible here... that must've been what Ralof had meant by magic. This world - Nirn, was it called? - was looking more and more like Dungeons and Dragons every second.

"It's you and me, prisoner! Stay close!" Hadvar called back to him. Percy realized he'd stopped walking and caught back up.

The strange pair entered a courtyard area. Suddenly, Ralof appeared in through a different entrance.

"Ralof! You damned traitor! Out of my way!" Hadvar demanded, brandishing his sword.

Ralof pulled his axe. "We're escaping, Hadvar! You aren't stopping us this time!"

"Fine! I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde." Hadvar stated coldly.

Hadvar began running towards one entrance. He said, "With me, prisoner! Let's go!"

Ralof ran in the opposite direction. "You! Come on! Into the keep!"

Percy froze for a second. Which should he go for... he made the split second - and admittedly stupid - decision to follow Hadvar. The Imperial soldier kicked open the door and Percy followed closely after him, slamming it shut. He scanned the room, finding no other refugees.

The demigod then realized how fatigued he was and fell to his knees, desperately trying to gasp for breath. Hadvar leaned up against a nearby table and tried to catch his breath as well

"Looks we're the only ones who made it." He leaned against a table. "By the divines... that really WAS a dragon..."

_Yeah, no kidding._

Percy managed a nod and struggled back up to his feet. "That thing-" - he said, taking a big breath - "-doesn't mess around."

The soldier only nodded.

The two strangers continued to regain their bearings for around a minute or two before Hadvar asked, "So are you a criminal?"

Percy looked at him blankly. "Of course not. You and your delightful Imperial friends captured me for no reason and sentenced me to death."

"You _were _on the border, and things are... tense. Why were you near the border anyway?"

_Uhh..._

Thankfully Percy was saved by the bell as a deafening roar outside was heard outside. Hadvar shivered as he sheathed his gladius. "We should keep moving. You seem like a good, fast fighter. Quick thinking, at least. Tell you what: you help me escape, and your name is gone from the Imperial execution list."

"Deal."

"Swear you won't stick a blade in my back when I'm not looking?"

"Swear it."

The strange pairing uneasily shook hands. Hadvar's eyes shot down to some wounds on his right arm. "I need to find something for these burns. Go and find yourself a weapon."

Percy turned to examine the room, seeing a few chests. "You know, they brought all of the confiscated weapons from the Stormcloaks in here. Maybe if you were carrying something, it'd be in here."

The demigod took another look at his new outfit. The leather and animal skins were wrapped around him tightly, forming a sort of crude armor. A hood was present, as were a comfortable pair of steel-reinforced boots. A pair of thick gloves were in a small pouch on his right hip. A decently-sized backpack was strapped to his back. Percy felt like some kind of badass frontiersmen, ready to go hunt some buffalo and fight in the Indian Wars or something.

He found a foot-long steel dagger in a shoulder sheath, but he needed an actual sword. Riptide wasn't in any of his various pockets or anything, so he wasn't sure what he was going to do. Might as well check the confiscated weapons. Maybe one of the Stormcloaks had been carrying a half-decent swords.

He opened the first chest and found a whole bunch of axes. Ugh. The second chest was full of claymores and warhammers - both fighting styles he'd never been trained in. One more chest. Maybe he'd get lucky.

Percy found only one item - a solitary longsword in an ornate sheath. He pulled the blade out of the sheath and nearly fell over. _Riptide._

The sword was shaped exactly the same as he remembered. The blade was still bronze... but it wasn't glowing. Normally the sword had an innate glow - the mark of Celestial Bronze. But now it was dim. He swung it... perfectly balanced. This was his sword.

It wasn't glowing... did that mean it could affect mortals now?

Quaranir had managed to give him Riptide... somehow. He fastened the sheath around his waist quickly, hands shaking.

_"Your blade will always reappear in that sheath, Dragonborn." _The voice of the mysterious stranger who'd sent him there was still present in his head. So Riptide would always be with him.

_"Thank you," _Percy thought back. _"Why are you calling me the Dragonborn?"_

Nothing.

Hadvar was wrapping up his burns with a rag when he turned around. "That's a nice sword. You found that in the chest of weapons?"

"Yeah. It's mine." Percy looked down at the blade with comfort. This thing had killed Mrs. Dobbs all those years ago. It'd always been with him. Even though none of his friends were there at his side, Riptide was.

Hadvar looked at the weapon warily. "That's an expensive looking piece you've got there. You steal that?"

Percy bit his lip. He didn't have a noble last name or anything, of course he'd be curious how he'd come into possession of such a nice sword. "It was a gift from my mentor." He said stiffly, hoping Hadvar would accept it.

"Which mentor?"

_Crap._

"He's a famous swordsman in..." what was that place Quaranir had told him? "Daggerfall. I don't think you would've heard of him."

Hadvar shrugged. "I suppose I wouldn't. I hope you know how to use it."

Percy rubbed his thumb along Riptide's hilt. "I can definitely handle myself in combat, Hadvar."

"We'll see about that, uh..."

"Percy Jackson."

"Ah, yes. You were the one with the oddball name."

"Shouldn't we be moving?"

"Yes. Yes, of course. Well, through the door and further into the keep, I guess." Hadvar took the lead and opened the door, sword at the ready. He quickly led the strange due down a hallway and towards another room, barred by a chain-drawn gate. There were a couple of voices that sounded Nordic and one that sounded familiar, though Percy couldn't place it.

"Stormcloaks... let's see if we can reason with them." Hadvar said cautiously. He pulled a chain, which slowly opened the gate.

Hadvar led the way into the room and cleared his throat. "Now, we only want to-"

"Damn faithless Imperials!" cried the Stormcloak and lashed out at Hadvar, which he dodged. Percy stepped out into the room and was attacked by another rebel, a young woman with an axe.

Percy parried her strikes, wanting to avoid killing. He didn't really have anything against the Stormcloaks, and didn't want the blood on his conscience. After parrying her around ten times, she started to get tired. Percy disarmed her and put his sword at her throat.

"Surrender, or I will kill you." He threatened, even though he really didn't want to. His trepidation leaked into his voice, and the rebel recognized it and snarled with renewed vigor.

Just before Percy could retaliate, he felt metal against his neck. A quick glance down confirmed that it was a steel knife. A British voice hissed, "Drop the sword, love."

It was that woman from the cart - it had to be. She must've escaped and gone with the rebels. Hadvar finished off the man he was fighting and rushed over to stab the fallen woman on the ground. He turned to Percy with frightful eyes. "It's you again." He said, looking at the thief. "Let him go, you thief!"

The woman laughed crazily. "Why would I do that? So you can put that gladius through me as soon as I do?"

Hadvar's eyes darted between the thief and Percy. "Why do you even care about this silent man here, Imperial?" The woman goaded. "Cavorting with criminals sentenced for death isn't exactly the way of the Imperial Legion."

Huh. Legion.

"I joined up with the Imperials to police scum like you!"

"What's wrong with me?! I'm just trying to get by."

"You're the daughter of the Count of Skingrad!"

"Sod that! That's a life of lecherous nobles and royal trash."

"All I hear when you speak is a bored and spoiled youngest daughter."

"WILL BOTH YOU YOU SHUT UP?!" Percy finally interjected. The thief's knife pressed color against his throat - any more pressure and blood could be drawn. "You guys have your differences. But there's a dragon outside! This is stupid!"

The woman snarled. "And what do you suggest then, love? I let you go so you can put that pretty sword of yours through me? No." Hadvar only looked between the two of them, gladius arm shaking. "So you're just going to stand there? That's fine."

"No. I'm going to kill you." Hadvar growled.

By the Gods, the soldier was a poor negotiator. Percy cursed under his breath in Ancient Greek. "Listen... was your name Cathrien? I forget."

"That's the name my father gave me." The thief said stiffly. "I go by Sparrow."

"Stupid name," Hadvar muttered.

"Not helping!" Percy cried exasperatedly. "Listen, Sparrow. We'll let you go if you don't attack us."

Hadvar was looking at me with a puzzled expression. "What are you doing? She's a wanted criminal! She's-"

"She's just angry at her dad," Percy said weakly. "We can let her go."

"I..." Sparrow hesitated before slowly removing the blade. Percy quickly grabbed his sword in case she tried anything. For a brief moment, the odd trio looked at eachother, weapons at the ready. Trust wasn't exactly at a maximum.

Percy cleared his throat. "Alright. Sparrow, the confiscated weapons and armor are in the room back there. If you were carrying anything, it's bound to be in there."

The thief's eyes flashed between the Imperial and the demigod. "You want to give her possessions back to her?" Hadvar asked cautiously. "She's a thief! It could be skooma, or-"

"Are you daft? It's just my clothes and my bow; I'd like both of those back." Sparrow leveled. Upon looking at the dagger she held, Percy could tell she was unfamiliar with the weapon. Probably something she'd scavenged. "I'm going to get them."

"I'm not letting you out of my site." Hadvar insisted.

Percy clenched his fists. These two were _impossible. _"Look, Hadvar. You stay here and stand guard - I'll go with her."

The thief relaxed a bit. She nodded stiffly, switching to reverse grip on her knife and clenched her fists. "That okay with you, Nord?"

Hadvar uncomfortably looked at the two former prisoners. "I... I guess. Hurry back, we have to keep moving."

Sparrow led the way down the short hallway back to Percy and Hadvar's point of entry. The former was trying to get a read on the thief. She was in her late teens or early twenties, around Percy's age. She was kind of cute, in a roguish sort of way. Percy didn't trust her at all.

"Why'd you go with the Imperial, Rabbit?" She suddenly asked as they entered the room. "Scheduled for a shave with an executioner, and you went with the people who put you in binds."

Percy noticed that she called him "Rabbit". He really hoped that didn't continue. "It was a split-second decision. I can't explain it." Sparrow cracked open a chest and rummaged through it.

"So what did you do? Murder? Thievery? Treason, maybe?" She asked, tossing aside an axe.

"No. I'm innocent."

Sparrow scoffed. "Sure. We're _all _innocent."

Percy saw no reason to argue further, so he merely leaned against the wall and waited. "There you are!" She finally said, pulling a shortbow out of the container. The thing looked expensive - a polished, dark-reddish wood. She drew back the string. "Ipê wood, straight from Elsweyr. Stole it from a Khajiit tradesman. This piece is a beauty."

She ran her hands along the belly of the bow lovingly before setting it on the ground next to her. "And here are some arrows... piss-poor Nordic design, but they'll do... ah. There's my outfit. Turn around, Rabbit."

Percy did so as the thief shimmied into her clothing. "We can't trust the Nord. We'd do well to watch our own backs," she said with contempt in her voice.

"He seems like a decent guy, I don't know. And with the dragon, we're going to need numbers."

Percy could practically hear her eyes roll. "As soon as we get out of here, Rabbit, we're going to be in the middle of nowhere. We ditch the Imperial and find the nearest town. THEN we can go our seperate ways."

The demigod shook his head. "And how do I know that you won't put an arrow in my back to steal my sword?"

"And I don't know if that pretty sword will be going in between my shoulder blades as soon as I turn around. We're even."

"Partners in distrust."

"Precisely. You're quicker than you look, Rabbit."

"Can you not call me that? My name is Percy."

Of course that was ignored.

She grunted. "I'm all armored up now." Percy turned around to see the woman in black leather armor with pouches and bandoliers covering the front. A hood was drawn back, and she had a quiver over her back. Upon picking up her bow, she looked pretty badass. "Let's go, Rabbit. And watch out for that Nord. He can't be trusted."

Now feeling a bit threatened, Percy only sighed. "Why Rabbit?"

"I'd wager you're wonderful at hopping along. Now, come on."

Percy followed Sparrow back through to Hadvar's position, where he was trying to bash open a lock. "Going somewhere, mate?" Sparrow asked, sauntering over to the door. "Step aside. I'll get it open."

She dropped to a knee and pulled a lockpick out of one of her bandoliers. Hadvar looked at Percy nervously. "We have to watch our backs," he whispered. "If she follows us, we have to be ready to leave her."

Great. Caught in between two people who really wanted to kill each other. Percy only nodded stiffly back at the soldier.

"Ta-da." Sparrow said as the lock clicked open.

They rambled down a spiral flight of stairs until the trio came to another long hallway. A few Stormcloaks down at the other end. Sparrow sent an arrow down towards them, but immediately the middle of the hallway caved in, sealing off the rebels. "Damn. That dragon doesn't give up easy." Hadvar said, looking at the rubble.

"And did you expect a giant flying mythical creature to give up chase because its lunch is inside of a building?" Sparrow shot back. Oh, gods. This was going to get really old, really fast. "Come on, then. There's a door here. We're not done in yet."

"Shh!" Percy cried, pressing his ear against the wooden door. He heard Nordic accented voices inside. "People in there. They might be Stormcloaks."

The demigod slowly opened the door to find two rebels frantically searching for supplies. "Stand down! If you let us pass, we'll leave you alone!" He cried, brandishing Riptide.

"They've got an Imperial!" A burly man with a beard shouted. "Kill them!"

_Excellent._

The big guy with age took a swing at Percy, which he just barely ducked. Annoyed, the demigod rushed forward and put Riptide through the rebel's chest. As he realized what he'd done. Percy stared at the bloody sword in his hand for a second before the other guy was on him. This one was smaller and quicker, using a sword. Given Percy's rather broken up mental state, the Stormcloak got the advantage. Just before the rebel's blade entered Percy's belly, and arrow embedded itself itself in the Stormcloaks throat. The poor bastard fell like a rag doll.

Percy looked down at his bloody sword again. He killed a man who he had no quarrel with... jeez...

Sparrow didn't look much better. Her face was green, and her hands shook. "First time?" Percy asked with a low voice.

She nodded slowly. "Yes."

Percy cleaned his blade off on the Stormcloaks armor and scanned the room for Hadvar. The soldier was leaning against the doorframe with a neutral expression. Percy gave him a cold look and took a step towards Sparrow. "Thank you. You saved my life."

"Sure."

"We should, uh... we should keep moving forward." Hadvar said uncertainly, looking at the two members of their uneasy little party.

Sparrow turned to the Imperial with an outstretched finger. "Me and him have NOTHING against these rebels of yours! And you stood back and let us do the dirty work."

"Percy charged in by himself!" Hadvar defended, hand going to his sheath. "We could've reasoned with them!"

"Yes, because that worked so excellently for you last time!"

Percy threw Riptide to the ground in rage. "Will both you SHUT UP?!" He cried, looked at them angrily. "Listen. Hadvar, this _is _your fight. You're taking lead next time. And Sparrow? Just... be nice."

At the same time, the two adversaries exclaimed:

"How can you take his side like that, Rabbit?"

"You're trusting a thief with our lives? Are you crazy?"

The two looked at each other with contempt. Percy sighed and picked up his sword. "Listen. We're safe in numbers. We get out of this keep, and we'll figure out what we're going to do then. Deal?"

Sparrow shot another poisonous look at Hadvar. "...Deal."

"Deal."

Percy nodded. "Hadvar, you're in the lead then. Let's go."

* * *

**SORRY FOR THE WAIT.**

**I'm going to take my time with this thing, since I want it to be good and not super awful. Also, I got some real life stuff going on. Season 2, Episode of Telltale's Walking Dead came out on Tuesday, which derailed plans. Also, AP EXAMS SUCK. And I have them this upcoming week because we had some clutch snow days this winter, which pushed 'em back. I'm still screwed, of course.**

**Anyways, onto relevant matters. I'VE ALREADY RETCONNED SOME STUFF. I named all the important families in Skyrim as "houses" because I didn't think there was a lore-friendly name for them otherwise. As it turns out, there is a name for an important family in Skyrim - "clan". So I've edited the Introduction accordingly, changing - for instance - House Wulfblood to Clan Wulfblood. Just thought I'd mention that.**

**Anyways.**

**Face Hugz,**

**Professor Marmalade AKA the Daedric Prince of Crossovers**


	5. Venom

Down another set of stairs (this place went seriously deep), the group encountered another fight. This was between two Imperial torturers and a handful of Stormcloaks, which the rebels won easily. Three of them remained. Hadvar grimaced as he watched the fight end. "I'm going in." He said, charging headfirst into the torture room with a war cry.

Sparrow had an arrow at the ready in case someone discovered Percy and her. "You think you can kill again?" Percy asked quietly.

"Shut up, Rabbit." She muttered, keeping an eye on the bow's sight window. "And I'll do what I have to in order to stay alive."

Percy considered her words for a few seconds. "If today was your first, then what'd you do with that bow before?"

"Needle arrows."

"What?"

Sparrow rolled her eyes and sighed. "It's a trick a friend back in Bruma taught me. If you use a thinner broadhead on an arrow, it's not lethal and the target won't bleed out. So you take a sewing needle, fletch it, cover the thing with a knockout poison, and then-"

"Ah. I get it. That's pretty smart," Percy commended awkwardly. He was wholly unsure if she was trustworthy; but Hadvar might've been worse. "How's our friend down there doing?"

"He's managing. One of the rebels is dead."

"That's, uh... that's good, I guess." Another few seconds of silence. "If he were in danger, would you shoot again? Save him?"

After nearly a minute of nothing, Sparrow sighed. "I don't know. He's got another one down... and now another. They're all dead."

Percy led the thief down towards Hadvar. "So where do we go now?" The demigod asked, trying to not look at the dead bodies strewn about the room. "Is there a way forward?"

Hadvar nodded. "Aye. There's a passage leading... somewhere. I think it links up with a natural cave further along. It's our best bet, let's move."

"Hold up there, laddie." Sparrow interjected, looking at a locked prison cell. "I see septims in there. One second."

The soldier made a noise of revulsion as the woman quickly picked the lock and scooped up a handful of large copper coins. They were around the size of a quarter and seemed to be sloppily made. "I'll never turn down a copper. Nicer to see a Uriel silver or a Mede gold but not bad."

"I don't need to know your preferences of theft," Hadvar grumbled, looking down a tunnel. "Come on, let's go further."

The three went down a hallway with prison cells on either side. There was some pretty gruesome stuff in there, but Percy was fairly zoned out at the moment. He kept replaying the death of that Stormcloak he'd stabbed over and over. The first mortal flesh Riptide had ever rended. It made him feel sick.

Especially since he was only at odds against the deadman because of the very much alive man in Imperial armor with him. Percy didn't much like Hadvar.

They came to a gate that was closed and locked, shutting off further access into the cave. Hadvar pulled a lever on the wall nearby and the wooden mechanism swung open. "What d'you suppose they'd keep on the other side of a gate?" Percy asked Hadvar cautiously.

"I don't know," he admitted, taking the lead. "I've never been stationed in Helgen. I've never heard of an Imperial keep designed like this one. We'll see, I guess."

"That just fills me with confidence," Sparrow muttered.

Hadvar gasped, and then swore. "Yeah, we've got a problem."

A large cavern was covered in cobwebs and huge, disgusting slimy sacs of some kind. And crawling around them were bear-sized insects - spiders.

"What is this Lord of the Rings nonsense?" Percy asked exasperately.

"Uhh, what?"

"Nothing."

The monsters scuttled around, clacking their disgusting and dripping mandibles. "What are they?" Sparrow breathed. Well, at least Percy wasn't the only one lost here.

"Frostbite Spiders. They're pretty common in Skyrim." Hadvar whispered.

Percy wasn't seriously arachnophobic; everyone hated spiders to a certain extent, but he hated things like centipedes and roaches more. Still, these things were pretty terrifying. "I don't suppose they're friendly." He said weakly.

"No. Hostile to everyone."

"Great." Sparrow drew her bow. "So we've got to kill them, then?"

"Yeah. Watch out - they have a nasty poisonous spit."

"Naturally. I'll lead off."

She sent an arrow at the nearest insect, with speared the spider's head, killing it instantly. Percy gripped Riptide. A cold feeling shot down his spine.

Sparrow nailed three more of the disgusting things. "I don't know what the big deal is, Imperial. This is-"

A glob of blueish-green poison shot towards the woman, hitting her in the arm. She cried out in pain and grasped it, falling to her knees. "Crap!" Percy kneeled over her, unsure of what to do. "Hadvar! What should I do?"

The soldier's eyes quickly looked from the thief to the spiders, and then back to Percy. "Leave her. She's just a thief. We can escape!"

Percy gave him an incredulous look. "I'm not leaving someone to die! Especially someone who saved my life not too long ago."

"Well, I don't have any antipoison! She's not a Nord; she's going to die."

Sparrow continued writhing in pain, unable to form words. "Help me kill the spiders, at least!" Percy cried.

Hadvar hesitated before nodding. "Alright. Let's go."

The first spider spit a glob of poison at Percy.

He barely managed to roll out of the way and towards the insect, which he stabbed through the abdomen. He pulled out Riptide and found it covered with disgusting spider guts. There was only one of the monsters left; the biggest one.

This thing was by far the largest. It was around six feet in length, and with all of its eyes and disgusting snapping bits, Percy really didn't want to get near that thing. "Hadvar? Can you shoot a bow?" The demigod asked, panicking.

"Ehh... more or less." Hadvar said slowly. "Listen... we should just make a run for it. That spider won't die easily, and you're one drop of poison from turning into that thief over there."

Percy glanced back at Sparrow, who was muttering madly while clawing at her poisoned arm. "We have to do something to help her."

"It's pointless. The only antidote I was ever taught was treating the burn with Frostbite Eggs crushed up with lavender. But that's just an old wive's tale. Listen to me: there's a big town north of here - Riverwood. It's around 25 leagues from Helgen. We get out of here, and you can head there."

Percy shook his head vehemently. "I won't let anyone just die. It's not right. We have to try."

Hadvar looked at his former prisoner disappointingly and shook his head. "It was nice meeting you then, but I don't have a death wish. I'm going to make a break for it."

"No! Don't-"

The soldier charged forward with reckless abandon, gladius drawn. He charged straight at the thing. Almost with boredom, the spider glanced down at Hadvar and spit right in his face. It brought it's fangs down into the soldier's chest.

"HADVAR! NO!"

Percy had thought the execution of a man with a axe earlier was gruesome. He thought seeing a gigantic, bear-sized spider was disgusting. He'd seen a lot of messed up shit in his time... but ultimately, this took the cake.

The frostbite spider ate Hadvar.

It was the most horrible, revolting thing the demigod had ever seen. It ripped the dead man limb from limb, and used poison to make it easier to swallow his meal. The entire time, Percy stood in place, frozen in fear. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to run away.

No. He'd lost one of his companions; he wasn't going to lose the other.

A rage filled him. This stupid, dumb spider had just eaten a human being. It needed to die, and it needed to die painfully and quickly so Percy could help Sparrow. Hadvar... Hadvar had said frostbite eggs and lavender was a cure. He had to get those.

And out of sheer anger, Percy did something he'd never done before.

Despite the fact that he didn't have any significant sources of the liquid near him, a pointed spear made of water appeared in his right hand. He threw it at the spider with a vigor he didn't know he had in him.

The spear flew through the air and impaled the spider right in between his eight eyes. As the spear dissolved, the spider laid down, dead.

He'd figure out exactly how he'd pulled a magic spear of water that managed to cut through a spider's probably impressive armor later, but there were more pressing things to deal with. Sparrow was still dying.

He kneeled over her, seeing that she stopped struggling. She was still breathing, albeit shallowly. Percy felt her forehead; ice cold. _Frostbite_ spider. He didn't have a ton of time.

Percy really wasn't looking forward to finding spider eggs, so he decided to get lavender first. His mother used to grow the stuff in her window-box garden, so he knew what it looked like. Time to go on further and find his way outside.

"I'll be right back." He said to Sparrow, who seemed out of it. Still, he felt better by telling her that.

He dashed through a thankfully empty chamber before emerging into a forest. The sun hung at midday and barely poked through the trees. The cave entrance into the keep was in the middle of a pine forest.

Great. This wasn't exactly an ideal place for a flower to grow, but he had to look. He also couldn't stray far from the cave entrance, lest he lose its location.

And then a miracle: He looked to his right and found an ideal patch of lavender.

After sending a quick prayer of thanks to every god he could think of, he collected two handfuls of the flower. He wasn't sure how much he'd need, so better safe than sorry. He dashed back into the cave, dreading his next task.

Percy quickly set the flowers next to Sparrow and set about the second part of his work: finding spider eggs. He picked up Riptide - still covered in spider guts - and walked into the spider lair again. He looked at the giant slimy sac warily. If there was ever a place for eggs, this would be it.

He hacked into the thing, preparing for the worst. A few baby spiders crawled out, but nothing too gross or substantial. A single disgusting baseball-size egg rolled out with a plop. This was going to be fun.

He grabbed Hadvar's rucksack and shield off the ground and decided to use the polished metal from the shield as a working surface. He crushed the egg up using the flat side of Riptide, and threw in the herb. After a few seconds of mixing, he now had a disgusting green-and-purple paste.

Riptide was used to scoop up the gross concoction (poor sword was getting all the gross jobs). Percy carefully slathered the area were the poison had hit Sparrow, making sure he didn't touch it himself.

After evenly spreading the stuff against the wound, all that was left was to wait. He kept a head on her forehead, and miraculously her body heat returned. Her eyes focused on Percy, though she looked confused. "What in Oblivion..."

"How do you feel?"

"Like..." her eyes were glassy, and her usual wall of toughness had fallen. "I felt like I was burning, but... not. I... I can't..."

"S'alright, you don't have to describe it." Percy removed his hand and looked back down at the concoction on her arm. He wasn't sure if he could remove it or not. "The spider's dead. We're safe."

Sparrow finally noticed the egg-and-lavender mush on her wound. "Disgusting..."

Percy shrugged. "It's what saved your life. A home remedy to frostbite venom. We got lucky that there was lavender right outside the cave entrance."

"Do I want to know what the green stuff is?"

"Absolutely not."

The thief nodded slowly and looked around. "Where's the Imperial? Did he run away?"

Percy set his jaw and shook his head. "No. He, uh... a huge spider... it killed him."

The demigod would never be unable to see that. A grown man being torn apart and devoured by a giant spider... he could definitely see how Annabeth had been so afraid of them. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "The fucking monster ripped him apart and ate him."

Sparrow stared at the ceiling of the cave, unable to say anything. "That man was a twat... but that isn't right. Isn't fair."

Percy swallowed and then nodded. "...Yeah."

They sat in silence for a few seconds before she struggled into a sitting position. "Help me get this shit off." She muttered, gesturing to her wounded arm.

Percy complied, using a rag from Hadvar's pack to wipe the arm off. Sparrow's forearm had apparently healed completely - no scars or signs that she'd nearly died from poison. That weird remedy had worked beautifully. Eventually, Percy got her to her feet.

"Alright, then. We're on our own, now." Sparrow said darkly, retrieving her bow. "What're we going to do? I've never been to Skyrim, have you?"

"No."

She shook her head. "Great."

Percy dug into Hadvar's pack, searching for anything useful. He pulled out a couple of glass bottles full of red liquid, which he displayed to Sparrow. "Healing potions. Can you give me one? I'm still feeling weak."

"Uhh, healing potions?"

"Have you got spiders in your ears, Rabbit? Yes, a healing potion."

He handed the bottle to her and continued to look through the rucksack. "Uhh... okay, here's a map of Skyrim. Here's Helgen, down here." He gestured to a hand-drawn canvas map, which displayed the province. "Hadvar mentioned Riverwood was the place to go... up there. Twenty-five leagues north."

"That's the nearest town?"

"I guess so."

Percy really had no idea exactly what to do next. He apparently needed to figure out how to kill that dragon, but he didn't exactly know how to do that. Getting into civilization and finding out where the dragon was last seen might help him. "We need to go there."

"Twenty-five leagues is two days of walking, if we move fast and don't take a lot of breaks." Sparrow bit her lip and then looked up at Percy. "We travel together to this town, and then we part ways." She stuck out her hand. "Deal?"

Percy nodded. "Deal."

The faintest trace of a smile crossed her face. "Anything else in that pack we can use, Rabbit?"

"Let's see here... well, here's a cooking pot." Percy pulled out the iron instrument with confusion. "Who would lug around a cooking pot with them?"

"Who knows?"

Percy set the thing aside. "Uhh... that's a wood-chopping axe... a canteen... some flint... our friend here was a regular boy scout."

"What?"

"Nothing. We'll probably need all of this." Percy put the supplies in his own pack before handing the axe to Sparrow. "Hold on to that?"

"What do you think I am, a pack mule?"

"I'm only lugging around a cooking pot and a canteen, I think you can handle the axe."

She rolled her eyes and slid the instrument into a waist sheath. "Alright then. Let's go."

They emerged out of the cave and into the forest. Sparrow breathed in the fresh air. "Ahh, something that doesn't smell like spider crap."

Percy nodded, and squinted through the treetops. "Based on the sun, it's got to be around three in the afternoon. We can only cover a few leagues before it gets dark." He pointed at the sun. "Rises in the east, sets in the west... that way is north. We'll go until we find shelter." He looked at her with unease. "Are you alright to go? I mean, your arm-"

"My arm is fine." She snapped, as she started walking in the general direction of north. "Let's hop along, Rabbit. Come on."

**RIP Hadvar. In this parallel universe, we hardly knew we.**

**Uhh, that hurt a bit to write, I'm not gonna lie. I'd become fond of him due to The Savior of Nirn, but he's unnecessary here. And why not just murder characters left and right, especially characters everyone likes? I'm sure that's all something we can get behind.**

**In all seriousness, I MADE ANOTHER MAP OF SKYRIM. I dotted the country with lore-friendly towns, mainly drawing from The Elder Scrolls I: Arena. The only towns of my own creation are Bleakstone, Kingsbane, and Dalheim. Check out that map too.**

**Okay. Think that covers it. Have a nice day.**

**Face hugz,**

**Professor Marmalade, AKA the Daedric Prince of Crossovers**


	6. Shards

**I think I've devised an updating schedule, finally. It was kind of necessary since I'm currently writing two stories simultaneously.**

**On Mondays/Tuesdays, I will update Vigorous Restitution: A Sunken Debt. On Thursdays/Fridays I'll update this. ****Just thought you should know.**

**Anyways, KEEP THE REVIEW TRAIN GOING. Nothing is more motivating than that.**

* * *

"I spy with my little eye..."

"Please, for the love of the divines, STOP."

Percy and Sparrow had been on foot for a few hours now, slowly making their way north. The demigod knew that a person could cover three miles an hour while walking, so progress was going to be slow. Most of it was spent in silence. When Sparrow did speak, she said very little.

The past ten or so miles had all been forest - no sign of a cave or any significant shelter. Percy really didn't like the idea of camping out in the open. If spiders were around at night... even more so.

Percy squinted up at the sun. "It's going to be dark soon. We need to find someplace to camp out."

"Aye... but I don't fancy camping in the middle of the woods. Too vulnerable. No, we need shelter.

The two silently agreed on the point. Out of the corner of his eye, Percy saw something that broke through the endless trees. "What's that?" He asked, pointing in its vague direction.

Sparrow scoffed. "You're seeing mirages in the middle of the forest, Rabbit! That's..." she squinted at what Percy pointed out and then her eyes widened. "By Oblivion, I think it's an overhang!" She took off for it, dashing at full speed.

Percy didn't have any trouble keeping up with her. He liked to think he was in pretty decent shape. "Mirages in the middle of the forest, eh?" He teased through gasps of air.

"Congratulations on being not wrong, I suppose."

"I resent that."

They arrived at the rocky outcrop, relieved to find that it would most definitely work. The granite jutted out around twenty feet, allowing ample cover in case in rained or anything. Probably wouldn't do much of anything against cold, but hey. Beggars can't be choosers.

Percy sighed. "Alright. Camp, then." He slung off his leather knapsack and unpacked the pot, the flint, and the canteen. "Looks like we're sleeping on the ground, but we'll have fire." He glanced at the abundance of trees around them. "Only thing we don't have is food..."

Sparrow clenched her jaw. "I can shoot a bow with the best of them, sure. But I've never hunted for survival. By the Eight, I've never hunted at all."

"Doesn't have to be much. Maybe just a rabbit or two."

"Just a rabbit or two?" Sparrow pointed her bow at Percy jokingly. Holy crap, _she made a joke. _

"Har har." She handed Percy the woodcutting axe, who accepted it gratefully. "You handle the food, I'll try to get a fire going. Be back before dark."

She scoffed. "Okay, mom."

Percy rolled his eyes and felt this strange rush of anger flow through him. He shook it off. He needed to cut up some wood for a campfire. How hard could that be?

The answer was "pretty goddamn hard".

He obviously had to find a tree that was already felled, since he had no idea how to chop one down himself. He eventually found a dead log and hacked it up into pieces, slowly carrying it back to their little rock camp.

Alright; step one, in the books. Now he just needed to get a flame blazing...

He lined the pile of wood with rocks, like Grover had taught him all those years ago in Wilderness Survival Class at Camp Half-Blood. Upon looking down at his handiwork, he realized nearly an hour had passed. Sparrow still wasn't back.

No time to worry about that. He pulled out Hadvar's old tinderbox, finding the flint, firesteel, and now all he needed to do was light the damn thing. Of course, he'd never learned how to use a tinderbox - matches were in favor over on Earth.

After struggling and fumbling around for nearly five minutes, he managed to set fire to the wooden pile. He sat next to it gratefully, as it had suddenly become rather cold.

Dammit; when was Sparrow going to be back?!

Darkness had nearly fallen as the temperature in the woods began to plummet. It wasn't until just before the sun had left the sky when he heard the stomping of footsteps nearby. A woman clad in black rushed up to the fire. "Wolves." She managed to breath.

Percy swore and raced to his feet, drawing his sword. Indeed, several wolves were pursuing the woman, and were only around fifty yards away. Sparrow took a potshot and wounded one of them before Percy had to deal with the issue.

Fighting with wild animals was always the worst. They never attacked rationally or had recognizable patterns, unlike your average monster. The first beast leaped straight and Percy - and subsequently, straight into Riptide.

He managed to wrench the blade out of the wolf quickly to see that Sparrow had put another arrow into the wounded animal, killing it. Only one more, and upon seeing that both of its buddies were dead, it yelped and ran off.

Percy panted and dropped his sword to the dirt. "Jeez."

"Yeah..." Sparrow held up a pair of rabbits weakly, each with arrows through the neck.

"Nicely done. Now we just have to make them edible."

They each skinned one, moving quickly. Darkness had totally fallen, and being this vulnerable couldn't be a good thing. Percy quickly had a makeshift spit going, and the two leaned close to the fire in silence.

Sparrow examined Percy closely. "Your eyes are broken," she finally said.

The demigod looked at her with eyebrow raised. "'Scuse me?"

"I've seen that look. Your eyes can't make focus with anything. You've seen more than I can bloody well imagine, haven't you?"

Percy opened his mouth and then closed it. He knew exactly what she meant. One of the first things Chiron said to him after he returned from Greece was that he looked fractured - like a piece of him was missing.

He still had nightmares about Tartarus. He felt that place eating at his being everyday, no matter how much he tried to ignore it.

But even more recently... he'd felt this strange, cold section of his gut grow bigger and bigger. Like something that should be there simply wasn't. A lost puzzle piece, maybe.

He felt a cold, unforgiving shiver. He knew what that meant... _No... not here. _He WAS NOT going to have an attack here.

Fight it... fight it like hell...

Gone.

He'd slain the panic attack like it was a monster. He fought it. The only thing he was good at was fighting.

All he managed was a shaky "Yeah" in response to Sparrow's question.

He looked over at his traveling buddy, seeing the fire reflect on her face. He needed to redirect the conversation - push it away from him. "So what's your story?" He asked weakly.

Sparrow gave him a strange look. "What?"

"I don't know the first thing about you, and we're kinda in some sort of partnership for awhile. So, go ahead."

Her face went cold. "I stick to a name-only basis for a reason, Rabbit."

"That's, uhh... that's fair."

More silence, this time for a solid five or six minutes. "You already know enough about me. I was the fourth daughter of Count Hassildor in Skingrad. My name was Cathrien Hassildor. Now I'm neither of those things. I'm a thief. My name is Sparrow."

Percy's brain immediately shot to token emo characters on TV who wore all black and said that society just didn't understand them. That wasn't really fair to Sparrow, of course, but it was the very first thing in his mind.

"I don't know what to say." He replied honestly.

"You don't have to say anything. Now, let's just eat."

After another while, the rabbit was indeed cooked. Percy'd never tried rabbit before, and thusly was happy to find that it tasted enough like chicken to choke down without issue. Sparrow still finished first and bounced to her feet. "I'll take first watch. Get some sleep."

Percy normally probably would've insisted otherwise if he wasn't drop-dead tired. He laid on his back and tried to see through the trees to the stars.

He felt a punch in the gut as his mother's singing voice filled him:

_Little boy, little boy, don't you lie to me_  
_Tell me where did you sleep last night?_  
_In the pines, In the pines, Where the sun never shines_  
_You'll shiver the whole night through._

One of his first memories as a little kid was of Sally Jackson singing that song to him. Confused and not really understanding what it meant, a five year-old Percy asked what the verse was about. His mom only shrugged and said that it was passed down in the family. He'd later learned that it was an adopted American folk music tune about a girl who'd lost her father. It'd also been covered by Nirvana. Still, he loved that memory.

It filled him with warmth, a warmth he'd nearly forgotten could exist.

He fell asleep at some point.

* * *

His mother's voice left him, and now he was in Tartarus.

He could taste the toxic air, he could feel his skin blistering. This entire place was poisonous, evil, and dead. And it messed with him just as much as it did over a year ago.

The first thing he sensed was that sickly sweet smell - poison. He was fighting Misery along with Annabeth. AGAIN.

Percy saw these visions in first person, but it was pure recollection. He felt all the pain he'd previously felt; all the trauma he'd gone through, but he couldn't affect a damn thing.

He was standing on a small island around the size of a basketball backboard, surrounded by steaming puddles of poison. He was trapped. No way out.

He fell to one knee in despair. Annabeth was out there somewhere... she had to get away... he couldn't call out to her. Couldn't make his mouth move. He was a spectator, no more than that.

"You will feed the eternal darkness," Misery said. "You will die in the arms of Night!"

Somewhere Annabeth was trying to divert attention away from him, shouting and throwing bits of drakon jerky at the entity of pain itself. The goddess wasn't listening. She was one hundred percent locked in on trying to murder Percy.

Suddenly, he felt it.

At the time of that event, Percy had been understandably desperate. He thought he was going to die. So he decided, why not? Maybe he could control poison.

He closed his eyes and concentrated.

He broke.

Something inside of him ruptured. He reminded it feeling like a crystal ball had shattered in his stomach. That was the first time he'd ever completely lost it - and, unfortunately, it wasn't the last.

He felt that strange, cold presense it his gut settle and take shape as the poison changed tides. The liquid began to move towards Misery in tiny waves and rivulets.

"What is this?" The goddess shrieked.

"Poison," Percy responded, with a slight smirk. "That's your specialty, right?"

He rose to his feet, feeling that weird, unidentified part of him begin to warm and take pleasure in the act. He smiled crazily. The fumes from the sweet poison made Misery cough. Her eyes watered even more.

_Good. Even more water._

He imagined her nose and throat filling with her own tears, and smiled wider.

Misery gagged. "I-" The tide of venom reached her feet. The wretched thing shrieked and moved back as Percy slowly stalked forward.

Just a bit more pressure, and he could probably pop her eyes...

"Percy!" Annabeth called from... somewhere. He looked at his girlfriend, up against the cliff, looking terrified. Of _him. _"Please stop."

No. Percy didn't want to stop. He relished in this, feeling whole for the first time. That strange, cold part of being was starting to warm. He was covered in pleasure, and all sorts of other things that were buzzing around his head.

He wanted to drown her. He wanted to choke her. He wanted to see how much misery she could take.

Not... not Annabeth... he wanted to kill _Misery..._

"Please... please..."

Percy looked at the girl he loved's eyes. They were full of anguish, fear, and borderline resentment. He couldn't take it to see them like that.

He willed the poison to retreat over the cliff, and bellowed to Misery, "LEAVE!"

He hadn't noticed it then, but now it was apparent - there was something _more _to that command. Tartarus briefly vibrated, and Percy could feel raw power flowing in his words.

The goddess didn't need to be told twice. She panicked and ran away from the near-insane demigod. The pools of poison that still remained evaporated.

Annabeth slowly approached Percy, the Death Mist making her look like an emaciated corpse. But her eyes were still stormy and fierce. "Percy, please, don't..." She sobbed, which was pretty uncharacteristic of her. "Some things aren't meant to be controlled. Please."

His whole body tingled with power and arrogance. He was unstoppable. He didn't need to take any of this foolish_ joor's _bullshit.

Wait, _joor?_

Percy felt the anger subside, and he felt the broken glass inside of him dull. That sense of pleasure that had filled that part of him cooled, and suddenly he wanted _more. _He was born to dominate, and needed to.

The cold part of his gut demanded _more._

But he set his jaw and nodded. "Yeah, sure. Okay."

* * *

**19th of Last Seed, Year 201 of the Fourth Era**

**Late Afternoon**

"By the Eight, you're loud."

Percy shrugged. "You've said that three times today, _alone. _Sorry I don't move like a freaking shadow."

Sparrow only scoffed in response. "All the people I could've been saddled with and it's you. You're as stealthy as an Orc."

He didn't know exactly what an Orc was, but he'd played a few video games and had a rough sketch in his head. "You know, I don't usually endorse hitting women, but..."

She turned to look back at him with a glare. "Cute."

Percy rolled his eyes. They were nearing Riverwood by now - they had to be.

They had left the forest awhile back, and were now traveling on a path near a river. Based on the name "Riverwood", he could only hope this place was on that river.

A few hours back, they crossed this big huge border wall into "Whiterun", apparently this independent kingdom-but-not-an-actual-kingdom _thing. _Thankfully, getting in wasn't too hard. Now wandering slowly towards Riverwood was the priority.

Finally, after coming around the bend, was VINDICATION.

In a valley below sprawled a large town - much bigger than Helgen. And more heavily defended. Orange-uniformed guards bustled around, stalking the wooden defensive palisades. Inside the town, it seemed to be mostly mills for wood cutting and markets.

"Finally." Sparrow breathed, as she took off for the settlement. "Well, as _marvelous_ as it was working with you, I'll now take my leave."

And the thief dashed for the small town, going for the side wall. Probably to sneak in and scope out targets for theft. Well, Percy was on his own now. He took a deep breath and headed down to Riverwood. Time to figure out what to do from here.

He approached the township slowly. He was going to... he was going to tell the man in charge that a dragon had destroyed Helgen. Yep. Even if he had no direction of his own, he could help out some locals.

That seemed noble enough to him.

**If any of you are wondering where that whole panic attack thing came from back at the campfire, that's something I'm fond of doing with post-Tartarus Percy and Annabeth. They're both sixteen when they go through that; they HAVE to be scarred forever, literally. That's not even counting the two wars they fought in.**

**So in every post-Giant story I write, Percy will have a healthy dose of post-traumatic stress disorder. I think that's only natural, for all the horrors he's gone through. Combine that with the soul of a Dragon inside him, and I think you have a pretty poorly balanced human mind.**

** Well, that's a downer.**

**Also, I just read The Staff of Serapis - which is the short-story sequel to ****The Son of**** Sobek.**** It's much better than the first one, but my primary interest in buying it was the sneak peak of The Blood of Olympus inside. It's... definitely _something. _We're going back to one of my favorite places in Greek mythology - Ithica - so I'm excited. Piper's becoming somewhat likable. More mildly unfortunate things happen to Jason.**

**I FEED off of Jason's misfortunes. I don't even dislike him, I just think it's adorable when kind of bad stuff happens. I'd be upset if he suddenly died, but I find it hilarious when _mildly bad _****things happen to him. As long as it's somewhat debilitating and nonlethal, I swear to god it will happen to Jason. I can't take him seriously as a character, since all the other new guys have grown a lot _but him._**

**Also...**

**NICO IS A CONFIRMED POV CHARACTER. RICK RIORDAN SAID SO. ****I cannot wait to see how awkward his parts are.**

**Face hugz,**

**Professor Marmalade, AKA the Daedric Prince of Crossovers**


	7. Cold

"State your business in Riverwood!"

Percy had expected a less hostile welcome.

As he approached the town, several armed guards dashed up to him with drawn swords, yelling for him to stop. The demigod did so, keeping his hand on Riptide's sheathed hilt. "Well? Spit it out, then," snarled one of the guards in his Scandinavian accent.

Percy took a deep breath and tried to plan out what he was going to do. Annabeth was normally the one who did all of the talking... "I'm a refugee from Helgen. A dragon burned it down," he said evenly, looking at the soldier who seemed to be in the lead.

"A dragon?"

"Yes."

The guard pressed his lips into a thin line and looked to one of his colleagues. "You believe him?"

"We've heard humors from scouts... smoke in the distance, a dark shadow in the sky..."

The lead guard looked back to Percy. "How did you get into Whiterun? Helgen is in Imperial territory."

"We crossed the border," the son of Poseidon responded, holding his gaze. He wasn't lying. "Guardsmen searched us for anything illegal and then let us through."

"We?"

_Ah, crap. _"I had a traveling partner. She, uh, headed west a mile or so back."

After a few seconds of concerned silence, the soldier on the left spoke. "And what is it you want with Riverwood? Don't have a lot of room for visitors."

"Look, I, uh..." Percy's brain whirred. He was at a complete loss as to what he should do next, this was true. His sense of honor told him that if Alduin was somewhere around here... he could attack the town. "I need to see whoever is in charge. I can tell him everything I saw."

"Riverwood's governed by Hrongar, the brother of Jarl Balgruuf," the head guard said cautiously, as if he wasn't sure if such a "secret" could be given to a stranger. "The man visits Whiterun every week... could give a report to the Jarl... I'll take you to Hrongar. Follow me."

Percy followed the guard at a slow place into Riverwood, looking around. The place was significantly bigger than Helgen - still definitely not a city by any definition, but larger than the outpost that was now in ruins back south. The buildings were mostly wooden, all low to the ground, and all had no windows. It was pretty chilly - Percy had to guess it was in the forties or so - so not a lot of people were about. To his left, workers chopped away at mills, cutting logs with mechanism power by the River White.

"Nice town you've got here," Percy muttered. He hadn't meant for it to be sarcastic or mean-spirited, but he received an eye-roll.

The two walked for a few hundred yards before arriving at a seemingly normal wooden home, except this one had two orange-clad guards near the door and flags displaying a horse adorning the area. "He needs an audience with Hrongar, let him in."

A minute or so later, Percy was standing in front of a steel-armored map with a deep scowl and a mug of unidentified beverage in his hand. "Hrongar. Governor of Riverwood, brother to the honorable Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun. What can I do for you, citizen?"

The governor's house was a simple thing, with plain wooden walls and flooring. A large firepit roared to Percy's left, with smoke heading up through a hole in the roof. It didn't look safe at all to Percy - the building looked like a tinderbox about to catch flame.

Hrongar looked at him impatiently, and Percy realized he hadn't responded. "I, uh... I came from Helgen. It's burnt to the ground."

The man shifted in his chair. "I don't see why this was reason enough to seek me out."

"A dragon did it."

Hrongar's eyes widened.

"A dragon flew into the outpost just before an execution. I managed to escape with the help of a... a friend." Broadcasting that he was in line to be executed and that his partner was as well was probably not the best idea. Percy had the sense to figure that one out.

After a few seconds, Hrongar rose to his feet. "Dragons have not been seen in Skyrim for three eras. How do you expect me to believe you're telling the truth?"

The cold pit of anger in Percy's gut tingled. "You can go send your scouts or guards or soldiers or _whatever _down south to look at a whole bunch of burnt bodies and buildings if you want. I don't think a lot of others made it out. I don't have proof, but you'll have to trust me."

Hrongar shuffled his feet and pressed his lips into a line. "You're barely a man, and you don't look to be a warrior. You're telling me you escaped from a dragon?"

_Barely a warrior? CRUSH HIM!_

Fight it... Fight it... gone.

Percy maintained his cool, despite being nearly pushed to a breaking point by the cold pit. He took a deep breath before turning on Hrongar with an admittedly unsettling smirk. "I'm trying to help here. You've got a lot of people in this town, and I don't think they want to be burned or eaten. So do the right thing and believe me."

The governor stroked his beard.

"Oh, and I'm five times the warrior you'll ever be."

Percy hadn't meant for that last part to slip out - really, he hadn't. But upon seeing the man's nostrils flare, he realized he'd made a bad mistake.

"I don't believe you. But..." Hrongar readjusted his shoulder pauldrons, looking smug. "We'll have Talos decide if you're right, eh?"

_Talos. _The machine had killed Bianca back in that junkyard all those ago... NO. He could feel another panic attack approaching. He managed to push it off. The guy couldn't've been talking about the same thing. But who else had the name "Talos"?

"The lead merchant in Riverwood, Lucan Valerius, had something stolen out of his shop a week back," Hrongar explained, pacing. "I asked him about it, and he mentioned something about an old ruin. Go and see him, and do whatever he asks. Then I'll see about believing you, hmm?"

Percy internally seethed, but keep a straight face. A old ruin. Something stolen. A merchant to talk to. "I..." He had nothing to go on. Maybe speaking to the Jarl person would give him some kind of direction. "Point me to the trader, I guess."

* * *

A guard escorted Percy to a nearby building - this one was two-story, made of stone, and had a thatched roof. It seemed more extravagant than the governor's place; though, to be fair, Hrongar hadn't come across as an extravagant man.

Just before Percy pushed open the door, a thought struck him: Why wasn't he freaking out?

He was in an entirely new world, which was different in almost every way to earth. In their two days of travel together, Percy had heard Sparrow reference "magic" and "elves" in completely serious tones. He hadn't ever come _close _to figuring this place out.

And for some reason, he didn't feel like this was an alien world. Felt... cozy, almost. In a way.

He entered the building to find that he'd walked into an argument. "Well, ONE OF US has to do something!" A woman cried, waving her arms wildly,

"I said NO! No adventures, no theatrics, no thief chasing!" The respondent was a scrawny man with black hair, who merely looked cross.

"Well one of us have to do something! Let's hear it!"

"We are DONE talking about-" The man finally noticed Percy standing the doorway awkwardly. "Sorry you had to hear that."

Percy couldn't help but wonder if he'd walked in on a domestic dispute when the woman turned around. The two had pretty much the same exact features, so not husband and wife. Brother and sister. That made a bit more sense.

"No problem," Percy supplied lightly. He wasn't exactly sure what to do, but thankfully the merchant made the next move.

"You must be passing through Riverwood," he suggested. The man rushed forward with hand outstretched. "Lucan Valerius. Trader."

Percy got a better look at the man. He was a bit shorter than the other citizen seemed to be, and he didn't have the same Nordic accent. He must have been a foreigner of some description. "Percy Jackson. Hrongar sent me here to help you with something."

"What could he be...?"

His sister cleared her throat. "Lucan. The claw."

"Oh... you're right, Camilla. Of course." The trader looked sheepish as Camilla rolled her eyes. "Right. Well... we did have a bit of a... a break-in. But it was the damnedest thing. The thieves were only after one item: an ornament, gilded. In the shape of a claw."

Percy frowned. This hadn't been the work of Sparrow, had it? Probably not. Word wouldn't've reached Hrongar in mere minutes. "I'll help you get that back."

Lucan eyed his mercenary up and down. "Hmm... you certainly look capable. Tell you what: I've got some coin coming in from my last shipment. And I'll give you a cut of it if you get me my claw back."

Percy saw no other option. "Done."

The two shook on it, and Percy found himself liking the man. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't treated Percy like a jerk, unlike most of the people in Skyrim. "If you'll want to catch those thieves, you'll have to go up to Bleak Falls Barrow, a ruin west of town."

"Alright."

"So this is your plan, Lucan?" Camilla asked from across the room.

The trader looked at her impatient. "Yes. Now you don't have to go, do you?"

"Oh really? Well, I think your new sellsword here needs a guide."

"Wh- no... I... Oh, by the Eight, _fine. _But only to the edge of town!"

Camilla got up from her seat. "Come on, Mister Jackson. I'll show you the way."

Percy inadvertently scowled. "Don't call me Mister Jackson. I'm not that old. Uh, if you don't mind."

Camilla was in her early twenties, if Percy had to guess, so hearing something that formal was strange. "You're right. I'm sorry, Percy. Didn't mean to offend."

"You didn't offend, I just-"

Lucan tapped his foot. "I don't suppose you could take this outside?"

"Of course, brother." The woman led the way to the door, with Percy following. She pushed open the door and the two emerged into the late afternoon light.

Camilla looked forwards, up over the town and buildings to the west. "We have to go through town and across the bridge to get to Bleak Falls Barrow," she said. She pointed a slender finger at a small mountain nearby. "You can see it from here, though. The black constructs on that mountain there."

Percy squinted and made out what looked like archways. "So what exactly is this place?"

"An old Nordic ruin." Camilla shook her head in annoyance. "Those thieves must be mad, hiding out up there. Those old crypts are filled with traps, trolls, and who knows what else!"

"That's reassuring," Percy muttered low enough that Camilla didn't hear. She walked towards the other end of town along the stone road. "So how do you know where the thieves are hiding out?"

"It's a well-known group of bandits based out of the barrow. No one's bothered to take them out until now. You should be careful."

Percy internally snorted. He'd fought gods and Titans and giants - a couple of raiders wouldn't pose any challenge to him.

"I wonder why they only stole Lucan's golden claw," Camilla mused as she continued her brisk pace. "I mean, we have plenty of things in the shop that are worth just as much coin. Lucan found the thing about a year ago, when he opened the store. Never explained where he got it. He's a tricky one."

The man had seemed a bit underhanded; most businessmen tended to be a little crooked. If Hermes cabin ever taught Percy anything, it was that.

They left the town boundaries and approached a stone bridge across the River White. Camilla leaned against a post and looked at the demigod with worry. "The path to the left will lead up to Bleak Falls Barrow."

Percy nodded. "Thanks."

"It's nothing." The woman opened up a pouch on her hip and pulled out a lump of cloth. "A bit of advanced payment. This is good bread; Lucan ships it in from the Imperial City. In case you're gone for awhile."

Percy accepted the food and smiled. "Thank you, Camilla."

"Do be careful and hurry back. I'd hate to think that you'd die on my directions."

"You _definitely _don't have to worry about that."

Camilla nodded slowly. "Alright, then. I guess I should get back to my brother. He'll throw a fit if I take too long. Such a child..."

And with that, Percy was on his own again. He heaved a great sigh and looked up at the black stonework up on the mountain. He shivered, feeling cold start to set in. Time to go, he guessed.

* * *

By the time Percy had reached the doors of Bleak Falls Barrow, he had nearly frozen to death.

The climb had taken a few hours, and by then night had fallen. He came across a tower with a couple of raiders in it, who Percy dispatched without issue. Continuing further up, he finally saw the ruin. No one was out on guard, and frankly Percy couldn't blame them. It must've been near sub-zero out there.

He wasn't exactly dressed for alpine travel, so his fingers burned and his cheeks were numb from the frost. He quickly push open the huge door to the ruin, hoping that the inside of this place wasn't as frigid as it was outside.

And of course, he walked right into a room with a couple bandits in it.

Being too exhausted to bother with pleasantries, Percy slashed a total of seven times, and soon the men were down. He sheathed Riptide and rubbed his hands together, then started to examine the room.

It was a tall and wide entry hall, dotted with fallen rubble from the ceiling. Snow fell in through the large holes. Percy needed heat. Fast.

He spotted a fire burning at the far end of the hall and stumbled towards it with reckless abandon. Thankfully, no other bad guys showed up to try and kill him. He collapsed next to the fire and held out his hands, drinking in the warmth.

At that moment, sitting in the pale light of the camp and near the point of frostbite, Percy realized he was alone.

He moved in closer to the fire, desperate the ward off the cold. His leathers were nearly frozen stiff. He inhaled and exhaled, taking note that he was very much still alive and that he _had _made it without dying.

Cold... not an enemy he was trained to fight with a magic sword.


	8. Barrow

After what could've been five seconds or five centuries, Percy rose to his feet.

He squinted at the only passage forward - a circular tunnel heading downwards. When you went further down, it got warmer, right? Even if that thought was complete bullshit it gave Percy some confidence going forward.

Near the fire, he found a wooden stick wrapped with a cloth rag on the end of it. The rag was smeared with some black stuff that Percy just couldn't remember the name of, but he knew what it all did. He stuck the wrapped end of the stick into the flames. After it caught, Percy pulled it out and had himself a torch.

He carried it with his left hand as he eyed the tunnel further in with hesitation. He wasn't sure exactly how old this place was, but the crumbled ceiling hadn't exactly done much to improve his opinion of the architects who built this place. Annabeth would probably have had a fit.

That made him sad, so he decided to stop examining the decor.

He walked slowly down the corridor further inward, as if that would help the circular tunnel stay standing. Showers of dust and small rocks fell from the low ceiling at random. Thick vines that were as hard as wood snaked along the walls and around scattered wooden supports. The place smelled like mold and mildew.

He reach the bottom of the descending tunnel and into a level hallway. A lit brazier told him that another person had been along here recently. Percy's grip on Riptide tightened. On the ground nearby, he spotted a few rough silver coins. He knelt down to examine them only to find that they were imprinted with images of different animals on them - hawk, wolf, and was that a moth? Shrugging, he pocketed them.

Branching tunnels were all around him, but they were all blocked off from debris. Only one way forward, and it was along the same hallway. He continued along, stepping over gnarled vines and further downward. How far down did this place go? How far until he found the claw?

He finally came to the end of the hallway and emerged into a large room lit low by a few braziers. A large lever was in the center of the room, and an iron gate barred access further into the ruin. His breath caught when he saw the dead body.

Upon approaching it, Percy saw how the guy had died. Twenty or so small darts were dug in the back and front of him. Percy shivered. A trap, clearly.

He glanced to his left and saw the pillars. The small things displayed images of animals - a snake, a whale, a hawk. Huh.

He turned back to the dead bandit and noticed the creepy head... _thing _that had fallen onto the floor in a crumble of stone. His mouth was open, showing the snake sign. That was...

Above the door were two more of the heads - the one of the left was a snake, the one of the far right was a whale. There was space in between for a third...

OH. Duh.

Percy went over to the pillars and experimentally turned one. It rotated without issue. He set the pillars to snake-snake-whale and pulled the lever. The gate shuttered open, while Percy mentally patted himself on the back for using his brain.

A quick trip down a spiral staircase led him into yet another hallway. He wondered dimly where he was going, so wrapped in his own worries that he didn't notice the huge spider webs. And then he heard a man screaming.

"Is that you, Harknir? Bjorn? Sjoling?" The man cried, probably because he heard Percy's footsteps. The voice seemed to come from Percy's left. He hurried along to see a doorway blocked by spider webs. He swore, _really _hoping this didn't mean what he thought it meant.

He hacked the thick web with Riptide and stepped into the next room - one that was much taller that the hallway. At the far end seemed to be a man - _did he have grey skin? - _who was caught in a spider's web.

"Gods, are you alright?" Percy asked cautiously.

"Watch out! It's still-"

A frostbit spider dropped out of a hole in the ceiling - one directly above Percy.

He nearly froze, picturing what one of these things had done to Hadvar. He barely managed to roll out of the way in time.

Not wanting to give the spider time to react, he sliced three times at the monster's abdomen before it turned to face him. It crumpled into a heap, leaving a panting Percy and a throbbing heart.

"You did it! You killed it. Now cut me down before the others show up!" cried the man, as he struggled against his webby trap.

Percy looked at him. "Shove off and let me catch my breath."

After a few seconds, the demigod approached the netted man slowly. His skin was, in fact, an ashy grey. He had pointed ears, greasy black hair, and eyebrow ridges that nearly looked like horns. Percy must've mistaken the guy for an alien.

"What, you've never seen a Dunmer before?" The person asked, like he was reading Percy's mind. "You humans are all the same. You know what? I think _you _look strange, mate."

Percy glared at him coldly. He really didn't feel like being cordial. "You're pretty inconsiderate, considering I'm about to save your sorry butt."

"I've been tied up like a noble's mistress for a day now, sorry if I'm not the best at talking. Well, go on. Cut me down."

"Not yet."

The grey man cried out in anger. "What is it, then?"

"What do you know about the golden claw?"

"Yes! The claw! I know how it all works! The claw, the markings, the hall of stories... I know how they all fit together! Cut me down and I'll show you. You won't believe the power the Nords have hidden in here."

Percy hesitated. The guy was probably lying, but he didn't really have a choice. He sliced Riptide twice through the web, and the Dunmer fell to the ground. He took a step forward. "Where's the claw?"

"You fool, why should I share the treasure with anyone?" He laughed as he ran down a tunnel behind the web.

Percy kind of expected that. He ran after him, panting. He went through a half-circular room and then down a flight of stairs, where Percy saw surprise number two.

Three zombie-looking beings carrying swords looked at the grey-skinned man and growled. "Draugr!" The lead one swung his greatsword and cut off his head in one swing. Percy froze, praying he hadn't been noticed.

The zombies - or, "Draugr", as the grey man had so kindly identified them as - growled at Percy and charged at him.

Well, crap.

Percy parried the first strike and chanced a stab at the thing's gut. Riptide sunk into the creature's dead flesh, but the draugr was undeterred. Percy barely managed to wrench Riptide out and roll away before an axe impaled him.

He looked at the three monsters with a mixture of anger and fear. "Let's see what kills you, then."

Percy waited for one of the corpses to amble towards him before he thrust the torch at the draugr's chest. The creature roared in fear and fell to the ground.

Fire, then. That or a decapitation, he'd wager. Or maybe some holy water. Zombie movies had taught him well.

He finished off the other two, leaving a trio of long-dead burnt bodies on the cold stone floor. Percy cautiously back to the dunmer's dead body, which was in an expanding pool of blood. On the ground near his corpse, Percy spotted the glint of gold.

He cautiously picked up a bloody ornament, about the size of Percy's palm. He wiped the crimson off on the deadman's armor and examined the trophy. It was a detailed carving, with intricate designs on the "palm", showing more of the animal symbols.

Great. Now just to-

Stone above him groaned, and Percy's blood froze. He dashed forward into the ruin, through another tunnel. He could hear the ceiling begin to crumble behind him - at first, small stones and rocks. But after he dashed through a gaggle of hallways aimlessly further into the ruin, he really he'd screwed himself over.

After he figured he could take a minute to catch his breath, he turned to see that he was in a natural cave - he'd just left the man-made section. He squinted around the dimly-lit cave, looking for where exactly he'd left the ruin. His eyes eventually settle on a doorway, sealed with fallen granite.

Great. Just great.

Percy tried to panic too much as he gripped the golden claw. He was sealed in... what if there wasn't another way out? He imagined dying of thirst would be painful.

No, he couldn't think about that. He had to continue on and hope that there was an alternate way out of the this place.

He moved quickly across a narrow land-bridge over a deep chasm and through another cave lit only by Percy's torch and glowing green mushrooms. Eventually, Percy found another doorway into the man-made section of the ruins - obviously to a different point further-in, as the tunnel wasn't collapsed. He silently prayed again and forged onward.

Percy came across another room with a pair of draugr in it. They were easily disposed of, the flame eating away at their mortal bodies. In small groups, those things would be easy to handle. He didn't want to think about a larger group.

He moved quickly into the next hallway, which was strangely lit by braziers. Had it been the work of the draugr? Who knew. But what caught his eye was the carvings on the sides of the corridor. They showed what seemed to be gods, surrounded by animals with kneeling subjects around them. Kind of like the paintings in the old Egyptian pyramids.

He finally came to large door, with a circular design. In the very center was a group of three holes, and around the center were three half-concealed rings. Wait... Percy put the claw up to the holes. It fit perfectly.

A key.

No wonder the bandits had only stolen this single thing. Not only was it likely valuable, but it was the only way forward into the ruin. But why had they wanted to go further? What was behind this strange locked door?

He moved to turn the claw, but then froze. This was too easy. There had to be more to this, and he wondered if it had to do with those rings. He looked at them again. they had those animal symbols on them.

He glanced down at the claw again. The pattern on the palm was: bear, moth, owl. He input the code with the rings and turned the claw.

He entered one of the most hauntingly beautiful rooms he'd ever seen.

Moonlight streamed in through a hole in the ceiling, illuminating the natural cavern. Around the cave were scattered attempts at stairs or bridges over a small creek that ran through the place. On the walls, waterfalls flowed down, filling the creek with crystal-clear water that was probably freezing cold. And of course, there was the center.

He walked up to the raised pedestal, where there was a solitary coffin, an ornate chest, and a strange curved wall of stone loomed. He looked at it and swore that he saw alien letters he'd never seen before... but that wasn't right. He could read it, perfectly fine.

_Here lies the guardian_  
_Keeper of dragonstone_  
_And a force of unending_  
_Rage and darkness._

Force...

He felt himself drawn to the wall, like a hook had attached to his belly button, pulling him forward. As he got close, the world "force" began to glow.

"Whoa..."

A tendril of blue light reached out and touched him, and Percy screamed.

He felt his brain expanding... taking in more knowledge than he was accustomed to. It felt as though he'd had the worst case of brainfreeze in history... but then his vision returned.

He felt more vigorous than ever.

_Fus._

Force.

That was definitely a good thing, since a draugr emerged from the previously closed coffin. It charged at him, battleaxe poised to strike. But Percy parried easily and decapitated the creature with a single stroke.

He felt the wave of energy leave him as he glared down at the dead thing's body. He was... his name was Percy Jackson. Yeah.

He looked at the chest curiously, and cracked it open. His eyes went wide as he saw the collection of jewels and silver. He immediately dropped to a knee and began to shovel the stuff into his knapsack, not caring much about stealing from the dead, considering that the dead had tried to kill him. One last thing in the chest caught his eye, however. A stone tablet, not much bigger than his hand. It was engraved with markings he didn't understand. Shrugging, he put the thing in his bag.

He finally rose to his feet, now feeling the fatigue and the need to rest hit him like a sack of bricks. He saw the set of the stairs by the back that hopefully led out; he padded up them slowly to find out... yes, there was a way back outside.

But it was still pitch dark outside. And Percy's eyelids felt heavy.

* * *

**20th of Last Seed, Year 201 of the Fourth Era**

**Just before Noon**

"You're back!" Camilla cried, rushing to Percy.

The demigod shrugged, and tossed the claw on the counter. "Took a nap. I was pretty tired."

Lucan looked in surprise down at his returned ornament and smiled. "You found it! Thank you. You've done a great thing for me and my sister." The man handed Percy a small pouch of coins. "Thank you for your service."

"No problem." Percy felt the weight of the treasure in his backpack, unsure of what to do with it yet. He decided to hold on to it for the time being. "I'll be going now to see Hrongar. Till next time, Lucan."

Percy left the small trading shop and made way for the governor's home. The sooner this was done, the better.

He realized how hungry he was, but he'd already eaten the bread Camilla had given him. He'd just have to wait. He pushed open the door to Hrongar's home to see the man sitting on his chair and sipping at a cup of something.

"I've done the job for Lucan. Now let's go see your brother," Percy said gruffly, not really feeling up for pleasantries.

Hrongar's eyes widened. "You made it up to that haunted barrow and lived? By the Divines... you must be telling the truth. We'll set off for Whiterun as soon as possible. You can ride a horse, right?"

* * *

**Hey. Just a quick note here.**

**Due to a lack of any real response from A Sunken Debt, I'll be putting it on hiatus for the time being. I'll pick it back up when I feel like the time is right. Thankfully, in its place, I might actually have something new - a PJO murder-mystery _thing _that I've still not fully got figured out. I got the inspiration from Fables, a graphic novel series that I quite enjoy. Who knows when that will be uploaded?**

**Anyways, have a delightful day. AND REVIEW.**


End file.
